The Screwed
by RebelX
Summary: The end of Metroid Prime Two: Echoes, from the space pirate perspective. Let's face it people, they're done for. Rated for language and innuendo.
1. The Report

The Screwed

A fanfic by RebelX

Disclaimer: Metroid and all related indicia belong to Nintendo.

A/N: What's this? I'm actually posting stories again? Dear God, the apocalypse must be nigh! Seriously though, I would like to start by apologizing to the fans of my Zelda stories. I just...I can't write Zelda anymore. I think I've outgrown it. I do, however, still have a small collection of surprisingly good metroid stories. When I say surprisingly good, I mean that when I went back and read over them long after writing them I didn't moan at their complete crappiness. I should warn you that this is by no means finished yet, and I may never finish it (I have a bad habit of that), but I hope you at least enjoy the ride while it lasts.

Anyway. This is a silly little story inspired by how much shit the poor space pirates go through during Metroid Prime 2: Echoes. This takes place pretty near the end of the game, when Samus first enters the Sky Fortress. The chapters are pretty short, and I only have three of them, but I hope you'll enjoy them anyway. Happy reading!

A strange cackling sound drifts through the halls of the small space pirate complex on Aether. It originates from a strange dark figure clad in black armor that almost seems to glow in the dim light. Trails of blue sparks follow the being as it glides through the air, prowling in the shadows. A dark figure, clad in a dark suit, with a dark heart and a dark purpose…

Voices drift in from an adjoining room, and the figure pauses to listen.

"How many times do I have to tell you idiots before you get it through your thick skulls! **The****metroids are NOT for target practice!**"

The figure shakes with silent laughter as the pirate commander continues berating the young fighters for their stupidity.

"This is the third time this week! Don't you realize how dangerous these things are? 041 still hasn't regained brain function after his little mishap half a cycle ago, and you dunderheads still see fit to fool around with the things? Honestly, how many times did the doctor drop you on your heads at birth, huh? How can you be so stupid?"

The commander pauses for a moment to calm down and regain control of himself.

"You're both being put on reduced rations for the next two cycles, and if I catch you again, it will be three! Now get back to your posts!"

A chorus of "Yes sir!" follows, accompanied by the sounds of feet shuffling away and a door closing. Silence reigns. The dark figure pauses for a moment, then softly continues down the corridor. Poking its helmeted head into the room, the figure catches sight of the pirate commander typing furiously into a computer console. Stealthily the figure approaches, floating through the air so that its metal boots would not make any noise by crunching in the soft sand. It halts directly behind the unsuspecting pirate, curling its fingers evilly as it prepares to pounce. Its muscles tense, its eyes narrow, and then…

"BOO!"

"GYAAAAAGH!" the pirate commander jumps a good two feet in the air, executing a magnificent little mid-air twirl before crashing into the console back-first. He lays there, panting, his wide eyes soon narrowing as he recognizes the figure doubling up with laughter before him.

"Dark Hunter! You scared the bejeezus out of me! What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?"

The figure, known as Dark Samus (a.k.a. the Dark Hunter), says nothing but continues laughing uproariously at the poor commander.

"Your face…oh, you should have seen the look on your face, Lukius, it was priceless…"

Lukius scowls darkly as he disentangles himself from the computer monitor.

"Did you come down here just to annoy me, or do you actually have something to report?"

Dark Samus snorts and crosses her arms. "You're no fun, you know that? All right, all right, yes I went to check out the entrance of that cliff fortress thing, and no I didn't see any signs of the Hunter. She must have split after she slaughtered those commandos- or gone deeper into the fortress, maybe."

"You mean you didn't check _inside_ the fortress? Why not?"

"I'm hungry."

Lukius groans in exasperation.

"You just 'ate' half an hour ago!"

"I have a very fast metabolism."

The pirate glowers tiredly at her. "We do need some of the stuff for energy, you know."

"I thought you were using the metroids?"

"Well we are, but the confinement fields we're using to contain them keep malfunctioning and we're running out of the parts we need to repair them. Pretty soon they'll all break loose and we won't be able to enter the bio-energy division at all."

"Damn. Well, could you at least point me in the direction of some phazon ore in Dark Aether? Maybe the stuff in the hostile territories that you can't reach anyway…?"

"Yes, yes, certainly, hang on…"

He types something into the console, and a map appears on the screen.

"Here you go, right inside the cliff fortress. It's in this huge elevator right here."

"Ok, got it. I'll look for the Hunter while I'm at it. Don't worry, I'll have her head on a platter soon enough. Ciao!"

And with that, the dark hunter speeds off out of the room. Lukius shakes his head and returns to the console, where he continues writing up his report for High Command.

So far, it reads:

I am pleased to inform you that our status has gone from royally royally royally screwed to just royally royally screwed. This improvement comes from a vital, if somewhat shaky, alliance with the previously mentioned bioform, the Dark Hunter. We have struck an agreement in which we provide her (the female nature of the bioform has been confirmed) with phazon while she protects us from the shadowlings and actively hunts the Hunter.

I say that this alliance is shaky because, the Dark Hunter proves to be a very…

Lukius pauses as he tries to think of the correct phrase, glancing back at the spot where he'd last seen Dark Samus before she left the room.

…enigmatic persona with strangely childlike characteristics and a good deal of eccentricities. Still, with this conflict finally resolved our chances of succeeding in this mission have risen. Though the young soldiers are still complete morons, the metroids are continuously breaking free from their holding cells, the Hunter continues to devastate our forces, our energy is running out, our mining expeditions end with more casualties than productive phazon extractions, and the shadowlings possess our troops at every possible opportunity, we are quite confident that we still have a 5 percent chance of success.

We do humbly entreat you to send more munitions and troops, however, seeing as how we are still royally royally screwed. Enclosed is a list of parts given to me by the chief engineer which, according to him, we direly need if we are to maintain our base. Also, the chief of security has submitted a request that, if you do see fit to send more troops, that you do not send any more "damn rookies", as they are more likely to get themselves killed than do anything productive. And I have the inappropriate conduct reports to prove it.

End report.

Lukius chuckles softly to himself as he reads over his report. He'd give anything to be able to see the faces of those stuffed-shirts up at High Command when they read it. Of course, chances are he won't even see tomorrow, which is the reason why he dares be so callous and sarcastic in his report in the first place. Summoning the courage only those assured to their near end can have, he sends the report. With that out of the way, he turns around and skips away from the monitor, whistling. Certain death can have a funny affect on some people.

A/N: Told you it was short. Will post other chapters soon. Like...tomorrow, maybe. Review, please. Don't make me use the puppy dog eyes!


	2. High Command

Chapter 2: High Command

"I believe it is official. Our people on Aether have gone nuts." Elite unit # 004 remarks casually after everyone has finished reading the latest report from Aether.

"Not that we can blame them. Have you seen the casualty reports from that base?" Elite unit #003 asks.

"It really is a lost cause, when you consider what they're up against." Elite unit #002 nods in agreement.

"So…what are we going to do about it?" Elite unit #005 steeples his elongated fingers together as he leans back in his chair at the seat of the council table. Contrary to popular belief, it is 005 who is in charge there, not 001. His luminous blue eyes rove the suddenly silent table of other elite units, all genetically engineered and trained to be the best of the best of the best in every way possible. They are the taskmasters of High Command, overseeing the various bases and colonies and making sure everyone is doing their job. They send backup troops and munitions to certain colonies when they deem it necessary, and send instructions as to what each colony is to do with its resources. They are the brains behind the network of pirate bases. Problem is, they are a lot of ninnies.

Lyzu sighs with exasperation. Sometimes it seems like there isn't enough Tylenol in the entire galaxy to deal with the massive headaches these meetings give him.

"For Zebes' sake, send some troops to help the poor bastards! Isn't it obvious that they're desperate?"

There is a collective swiveling of heads as every blue eyed gaze in the council chamber turns upon him. Lyzu folds his arms across his chest and glares back at them all stubbornly. He is a young elite, and yet he has already earned himself a praenomen. His career had had a very interesting beginning. He was just about to leave some backwater planet after a successful diplomatic mission (read: intimidation of some underground connections) when he was cornered by a gang of bounty hunters. The hunters were feeling quite good about themselves, having killed all his guards and successfully surrounded him and were holding him at gunpoint. No one had ever captured an elite space pirate before, and the hunters were quite giddy about their accomplishment. But you can imagine their surprise when Lyzu threw off his cape, whipped out his blades, and promptly proceeded to beat the crap out of them. He slaughtered the lot, save one whom he simply left unconscious. He needed someone alive to tell the story, after all. He then calmly piloted back to Command and casually informed his superiors that he needed a new set of guards, as his old ones had been terminated. When the astonished higher-ups had learned the whole story, they immediately elected to give him a praenomen. Lyzu, which literally means "guard-less" (roughly translated, "needs no guards"). Though happy at first to receive such an honor, he was slightly dismayed when he learned that any elite member who has earned a praenomen shall instantly be promoted to the council, regardless of age. Not that he's the only young person there, he remembers with a cursory glance at 006 and 009.

"Desperate they may be, but desperation does not prove worth." Elite 008 says slowly.

All the other Elite units who are still paying attention to the conversation nod in agreement. After his initial outburst, units 010 and 007 had slipped back into their whispered argument about who could peg the largest number of warwasps from outer space with a three shooter gunship, and 006 and 009 had returned to doing…something… under the table. 009 would smile over at 006 as she fidgeted a little in her seat, and then suddenly 006 would sit straight up with his eyes wide while trying to suppress a shudder. Lyzu isn't sure what exactly it is they're doing, but he has a pretty good idea and he does not wish to know details.

"Aren't they mining phazon up there?" he asks pointedly.

"Yes."

"Have we not already agreed that phazon is the key to galactic dominance?"

"We have agreed to such."

"And what other colonies are mining phazon?"

Silence. Lyzu sits back in his seat triumphantly.

"Very well, Lyzu," Elite 005 begins, his glittering eyes peering lazily at Lyzu from beneath half lowered lids as a smile tugs at his lipless mouth, "since you are so concerned over the welfare of the base on Aether, why don't you go down to oversee the operations there yourself?"

Words escape Lyzu as he stares at his superior.

"Why yes, why don't you go handle it Lyzu?" 008 chimes in, a similarly evil smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. The other council members (the ones who are paying attention) all bear similarly evil expressions as they vocalize their assent. Lyzu is not very well liked by the council, and they have been looking to get rid of him for a while now.

Lyzu narrows his eyes and begins to think. He knows going to Aether is suicide, just as well as the rest of the council knows it. And yet his mouth slowly curls into a smile as he turns to regard 005.

"Alright, if you insist. But I will of course require additional munitions and troops- as well as all the parts they have requested for repairs." he says evenly.

005's fists clench as he struggles to keep his tone outwardly pleasant, "Yes…yes of course…I trust you'll set off immediately?"

"As soon as everything's ready."

"Very well then. Council's dismissed!"

The word "dismissed" was hardly out of his mouth when 006 and 009 shot up from the table and ran out into the hallway. Lyzu shook his head and got up at a more leisurely pace. He, along with the other council members, slowly filtered out of the room- except 010 and 007, who were now arguing about how many geemers they could hit with a galvanic accelerator cannon while sitting blindfolded on the back of a moving transport.


End file.
